


Seeing You With Him

by Fangirlingmanaged



Series: Luke Bryan Sappy Love Songs [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Broken Castiel, Broken Dean, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Back Together, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Post-Break Up, Song Lyrics, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 15:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2552249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirlingmanaged/pseuds/Fangirlingmanaged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been three weeks since their break up, and Castiel finally gets dragged out of the house. What nobody expected is for Dean to be out too, with some mysterious man, and that just kills Cas. He still loves him, still dreams with him every night... Still wishes they were together. <br/>He can't go drag Dean away from the stranger, so he does the next good thing. Gets shit-faced drunk and lets himself be convinced to sing karaoke. <br/>Dean... Well, Dean was just out for a little bit of distraction. He didn't expect to have to worry and fret over his stupid ex-boyfriend whom he still loves. <br/>The universe, it turns out, works in really strange ways, and it always tries to make right what humans make wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeing You With Him

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't live with the angst, so here... some fluff. Hope you enjoy it!

Castiel wakes up on a Saturday morning in his bed without having any idea of how in the hell he got there. The last thing he remembers from last night is crying into a bar booth with his brother and a couple of their friends. He wants to think that he had, politely, asked Gabe to drive him home after his little bended. But… something deep inside knows that that’s probably not what happened.

He raises himself on his elbows and blinks his tired, bloodshot eyes. There’s an insistent pounding on his head, but he has enough presence of mind to notice that the curtains are closed so that the light is muted. It still hurts his eyes like an ice pick is being driven into them, but it could have been a lot worse and he’s grateful to whoever was merciful enough for it. With the limited light he notices that his cell phone and keys are on the night stand as well as a glass of water and a couple of pills placed neatly over a napkin. He doesn’t even question their presence as he gulps them down gratefully. Unfortunately, his stomach is upset enough to take objection to so much liquid and he has to scramble for the bathroom.

A few minutes later, and he’s crawling back into his bed. It’s not like it really matters whether or not he gets out of bed today. He’s on temporary leave from his job (Chuck had tactfully told him to take the week after going two weeks like a zombie at the bookstore,) and Gabe would probably be sporting a similar kind of hang over as him. So he just crawls back into the covers and picks up his phone.

He doesn’t remember what happened last night, and it is not a feeling that he likes so he makes it his mission to ask around so that his friends can shed some light to the situation. He feels kind of apprehensive about it because he knows he’s going to be teased six ways from Sunday, but he decides he’d rather know what he did than be clueless about his own whereabouts from the night before. The first time he shines the light of his screen on his face he almost whimpers, it’s so fucking bright. He has to blink a couple times, but no instinctual tears leak out of his eyes. He figures he’s cried enough in the last three weeks to not have any anymore.

And just like that, he’s back into the dark pit of sorrow he’d tried to get himself out of the night before. See, Castiel has been wallowing in a pool of self-hatred and heartbreak for the past three weeks. Since that night in the parking lot of the Roadhouse, he hasn’t his boyfriend ( _EX-boyfriend, and hell if that doesn’t make him feel like he’s suffocating_ ) at all. The day they’d incorrigibly broken up, Dean had apparently avoided him like the plague. His brother Gabriel had driven him from pub after Hannah had called him from Castiel’s phone; he’d been too out of it to do it himself. It had hurt a lot more as it became obvious that Gabriel would not be speaking to him any time soon either.

The morning after had been, amazingly enough, about a thousand times worse. He’d woken up to Gabriel sitting on his desk, cross-legged with a sucker on his mouth and an envelope on his lap. His brother had stared at him, glared was more like it actually, and Castiel had tried his hardest not to squirm under his golden glare. When Castiel had opened his mouth to speak Gabriel had thought it best to let out all of his frustration. It had been the most heated and painful chastisement he’d ever gotten from any member of his family. That was saying a lot, since he’d been lectured on his sins by his mother and eldest brother Michael for about two hours and then subsequently been kicked out of his family home.

Castiel had been hiccupping and gasping by the end of it, his remorse and pain at having not only broken Dean’s heart but have let his brother down was too much to cope with. Gabe, for once, hadn’t given him a reprieve. Usually when they had arguments, Gabe would ease up after a while once he noticed it was becoming a little too much for Cas. It was an unspoken agreement among the Novak kids that Castiel was the most fragile of all of them.

“You aren’t off the hook easily this time, Castiel. I warned about playing with Dean, I told what it would do to him. This is nobody’s fault but your own,” the glare hadn’t eased up. When Castiel couldn’t come up with a response, Gabriel had jumped off the desk; shaking his head. “I found this on the porch this morning. I think we both know who it’s from.” When Castiel had made no move to uncurl from his position (back against the headboard and arms wrapped tightly around his legs) Gabriel had placed it on the night stand.

It had taken Castiel a long while to open the letter, and when he did he’d almost thrown up. His fingers were shaking badly as soon as he saw his name scrawled in Dean’s masculine hand. The shape inside had made his heart sink as soon as he touched it. When he opened the envelope, his fears were confirmed as the keys to the Novak house had fallen into his palm. There was a piece of paper inside as well.

 _Castiel_ , (No longer Cas, never again.)

_I want you to know that I don’t blame you for what happened between us. God knows I can’t force you to give up on your family when I wish every day that I could have mine. I know you’re probably blaming and hating yourself for what happened with us, but don’t. Don’t think about what it did, does, to me. Think about you, ‘cause that’s all I really want. I can’t blame ya for not loving me ‘cause that just isn’t how it is. If you can find it in yourself to do something for me, then do this:_

_Take care of yourself, angel, and no matter what happens make sure you always do everything that you can to make yourself happy. If you can do one thing for me, then always follow what you know deep inside will make you happy. Don’t let the misery you’re, we are, going through be for nothing._

_~~I love you.~~ And you are, always, my angel. _

_~~Love,~~ Dean Winchester. _

The letter is still in his wallet, and there’s days when he pulls it out just to remind himself that even with all of his mistakes, Dean still loves him. After the fiasco with Hannah, both Castiel and her had confronted the Novaks and said that there would be no romantic interlude between them. Hannah had assured them that there was no way she would ever try to force Castiel into anything. After she’d left, Castiel had just blown off on his family. He’d cursed and screamed and cried until Gabriel had miraculously appeared at the hotel. He’d informed their parents and eldest brother to stay away from Castiel, and that they were no longer welcomed at their home.

That had been three weeks ago, and the thought of Dean being as miserable as he was haunted him every day. Last night had been the only night his friends had been able to convince him to go out with them. They had, ignorantly enough, chosen the Roadhouse for their little escapade. Castiel had almost tucked tail and hailed it out of there, but Gabriel had convinced him to go in. He has vague memories of heavy country music, lots of liquor, and freckles and green eyes. He shakes his head to clear it, he must still be foggy from the alcohol, and decides to text Gabriel first.

Cassy: Gabe? Are you home?

Trickster Supreme: Ugh, no. I’m at Anna’s tonight. Why? You need anything?

Cassy: No, I just… I do not remember much from last night? I was wondering…

Trickster Supreme: What? You mean to tell me you don’t remember you went all Elvis up on stage? Getting shit drunk? Giving us a Luke Bryan impersonation?

Cassy: I do not… remember that not.

Though, now that he thinks about it, he has a vague memory of heavy drums and bass. He remembers getting up on stage with a bottle on his hand and a mic on the other. He remembers, kind of, Joanna Beth convincing him to sing karaoke for them. He remembers, painfully, Dean walking into the pub with some tall, ruggedly handsome man in a cap. He remembers seeing him laughing, God he’s missed the way Dean laughed with his whole body so much, at whatever the stranger was telling him. He remembers making eye contact with Dean, and seeing the light there instantly disappear. He remembers deciding to get shit faced right there. And, of course, after he’d managed to get himself into “weepy drunk” mode, the perfect song had come up.

“ _I got smoke in my hair_  
My clothes thrown everywhere  
Woke up in my rocking chair  
Holding a beer in my hand  
Sporting a neon tan  
  
My stereo cranked up  
I can't find my truck  
How'd I get home from the club  
Ain't got a clue what went down  
So I started calling around”

He looks down to see another text from Gabriel, and one from Annay, Joanna Beth, Meg, Garth, and ironically enough Sam Winchester. It is surprising because Sam had not spoken to him since he’d ripped his brother’s heart one. Other than to come over, trample over Gabe, punch Castiel in the face, and warn him to stay the hell out of his brother that is. They read as follows:

Trickster Supreme: You really don’t remember? Man, how fucked up were you!

Anna: Castiel, are you still alive? If you’re not, I have the perfect eulogy for you. “Weepy drunk, but could swing his hips like nobody’s business.”

Jo-Jo: Enjoying the hangover, lover boy? Man! I never pegged you for a Luke Bryan fan!

Hell Bitch: You having fun yet? ; ) BTW, nice singing, Clarence. (That message he didn’t understand, as he saw nothing amusing about a hangover from hell.

Mr. Fizzles: I hope you’re feeling better, buddy! *hugs* If you need anything, call me. But I’m sure you’ll have everything you need. Let’s go karaoke soon, though, okay?

Moose: I have never seen anyone so drunk or heard such a rendition of a Luke Bryan song as I did last night. But it worked, don’t fuck it up.

Some of those messages left him very confused. Sam’s, however, was the most confusing. He hadn’t intended to do anything by his performance last night; he was sure of at least that much. He’d just seen Dean Walk with another man to what at one point had been _their_ spot, and suddenly he couldn’t control his pain and guilt. He shouldn’t have felt as jealous and possessive as he did, they were broken up after all, but he’d wanted to tie himself to Dean and never let go. Since he couldn’t do that, he decided to do the next best thing and get shit faced drunk. Unfortunately for him, he was the kind of person to agree to _anything_ when he was drunk. He imagined that’s how Jo had convinced him to get on stage and sing that god-awful song. He could remember the lyrics flawlessly and it was horrifying how close his situation was to it.

 “ _And all my friends say_  
I started shooting doubles  
When you walked in  
All my friends say  
I went a little crazy  
Seeing you with him  
You know I don't remember a thing  
But they say I sure was raising some cain  
I was a rock star, party hard,  
Getting over you comeback kid  
Yay I must have did  
What all my friends say  
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah”

Cassy: Oh, God… Did I… Did I really do that in front of HIM?

Trickster Supreme: Sure did, baby bro. He looked very interested, just fyi. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

Cassy: Oh, God, Gabriel tell me you got me out of there as soon as I got off stage!

Trickster Supreme: Wait, what? Cassy, where are you?

Cassy: Currently hiding under my covers.

Trickster Supreme: Have you left your room at all?

Cassy: No? Why?

Trickster Supreme:  FOR FUCK’S SAKE! Castiel, go out into the living room right fucking now. Don’t text me back until you’ve talked.

Cassy: What the fuck are you talking about?

Gabriel?

Hello?

Oh, come on….

Fine, I don’t know why I’m doing this.

Fu—

By this point he’d already made his way down stairs, and found himself unable to type anything else. His whole brain malfunctioned, his heart stopped breathing and the air stopped halfway through his lungs. He had to be hallucinating, he just had to, because there was no way Dean Winchester was sleeping on his couch in that moment. The pain had been too much for him and he had finally lost his damned mind. That’s what it was. He was so out of it that his phone fell from his hands and clattered against the wood floor.

Dean, as always, immediately sprang to his feet and stared around bleary eyed. Castiel took advantage of his confusion to get a good look at him. He was wearing a tight black shirt and his signature ripped jeans. He was barefoot, Castiel could guess his boots were next to Castiel’s pair of Vans, and his jacket was thrown over the armrest of the couch. He was sporting an impressive head of sex hair, and his eyes were bloodshot. He was still as beautiful as he had always been, but he looked wrecked. He swayed on his feet, and there were dark circles under his eyes that spoke of many sleepless nights. Castiel’s heart squeezed at the thought that he had caused it. He had made Dean look so damn miserable.

“Uh, good morning?” Dean’s deep, uncertain voice pulled him out of his reverie.

“Hello,” Castiel said quietly. He couldn’t stop looking at him, fearing that he might be an illusion and he might disappear at any moment. They stared at each other for a long while, just like they used to, until Castiel opened his big mouth and ruined it. “Why are you here?” and it wasn’t until he’d already asked that he remembered that conversation so long ago. When he’d first begun to hurt Dean, and he almost wished he could punch himself in the face. He saw the shutters fall in Dean’s eyes, and his freckled hands fisted till his knuckles went white.

“Look, man, I know you probably don’t want to see me. Bet that chick you were going out with would be much better, but you were fucked up last night and I… I couldn’t let you be by yourself like that. I… I _had_ to make sure you were okay. And yeah, I know how pathetic that sounds,” he said all this in a rush. There was a little derisive laugh at the end, and he wouldn’t look at Castiel

Cas had a moment of remembrance from last night. He remembers going wild on the impromptu stage at the road house, he remembers singing,

 _“I was Elvis rocking on the bar_  
Working the crowd pouring out my heart  
  
And all my friends say  
I started shooting doubles  
When you walked in  
All my friends say  
I went a little crazy  
Seeing you with him  
You know I don't remember a thing  
But they say I sure was raising some cain  
I was a rock star, party hard,  
Getting over you comeback kid  
Yay I must have did  
What all my friends say  
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah”

He can remember people laughing, and himself laughing, and tripping from the edge of the stage. He remembers thinking fuzzily about how he was such a klutz, how he was going to die in the stupidest way ever…. Until somebody had caught him in strong arms. He remembers smelling pine and motor oil and leather. A scent he was well acquainted with.

“You caught me,” he tells Dean, and his voice has a little bit of wonder in it. Even when he’d been the biggest son of a bitch to ever live, Dean had still stood by and tried to take care of him.

“Yeah, well,” Dean tells him with a little shrug. “I’ll always catch you.” The sentence is heavy with meaning, and as the seconds tick by and Castiel doesn’t say anything, Dean’s stomach drops. He’s gone too far, he knows that, but it’s been weeks since he’s seen Cas and it’s like a drop of water for man dying of thirst. It’s like that gulp of air you get when you’ve been in the water for too long. It’s invigorating. And he’s damned tired of letting Cas run, of letting him make decisions for both of them…. Dean is damn tired of being a coward.

And, apparently, so is Cas because he blurts “We never dated.”

“What?” and Castiel wants to squeal when Dean narrows his eyes at him and tilts his head to the side the way _he does._

“Hannah, the woman I was with at the Roadhouse. Her and I never dated, it was a reunion accorded to by our parents. We went home the day after our… encounter, and set everything straight. I told my parents that I was not going to let them control me, and Gabriel rescinded their welcome. I will not let them control my life,” Dean’s choking up a little bit at how proud he is of Cas. His Cas, the one he’s always known existed beneath the fearful boy, had gone and taken a stand for himself.

“That’s… God, that’s great, Cas!” and he means it. Even if he can never see how strong Cas is, at least he got this little glimpse at how amazing his angel will be in the future. Dean smiles at him, and Cas gives him a small smile in return, and they stare at each for much longer than they need to. “Well,” Dean clears his throat to fight the lump forming there, “since I can see you’re alright, I guess I’ll get out of your hair.” Grabbing his jacket is the hardest thing Dean’s ever had to be. He wants to beg Cas to take him back, but he can’t make Castiel carry his neediness. So he just blinks away the tears and starts to make his way past Castiel’s frozen form on the hall.

As Dean’s about to pass him, Castiel grabs at his arm desperately. He can’t let him go, not now that he can see Dean is still in love with him as Cas is with Dean. “Stay, _please_ , don’t leave me again,” he begs him and them latches on to Dean’s torso for good measure.

His heart breaks a little as Dean clutches back desperately and a little sound, too much like a sob, breaks out his throat. “I never wanted to let you go,” he whispers into Castiel’s neck desperately. And then, by some miracle, they’re kissing. And it’s frantic and desperate but there is no way they’ll stop. Dean backs him up until his back is to the railing of the stairs, and then Castiel is jumping up to wrap arms and legs around Dean and they’re making their way upstairs.

They make love for the first time in almost four weeks, since that call from Castiel’s parents, and Cas makes sure he whispers how much he loves him to Dean. Dean, in turn, cries when they finally reach bliss. And as they’re drifting off to sleep, Dean already fast asleep with his limbs tangled around Cas, the blue eyed sends a little prayer of thanks. Not many people get a second chance at perfect happiness, but he has, and he’d be a fool to let Dean Winchester go again.

So, he tucks his head beneath Dean’s chin and closes his eyes. Dean makes a little sound of sleepy contentment, and pulls him closer. Cas whispers _I love you_ into his neck, and promises to remind him every single day, hour, minute of that fact. They have a lot to talk about later, but for now, this little bit of happiness is enough…

_Cassy: Never been safer._

**Author's Note:**

> It's my head cannon that Dean grabs hold of Castiel's phone and assigns random nicknames to all his contacts, leaving Castiel clueless and a little bit annoyed so.. yeah  
> Again, kudos and comments are love!


End file.
